


see what you’ve become

by zoombles



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, Villain Percy, Villain Percy AU, Villain Percy Jackson, this is a one shot and I love it, villain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:39:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14566239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoombles/pseuds/zoombles
Summary: What was that old saying? “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Who would have thought that at the age of 26, Percy Jackson would have lived long enough.





	see what you’ve become

Riptide swung beside Percy, the familiar grip held in his hands, like so many times before. Yet, it was different. 

What was that old saying? “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Who would have thought that at the age of 26, Percy Jackson would have lived long enough. 

The newest prophecy child kneeled before him, a child of Apollo, he believed. Maybe Aphrodite? It started with an A, he’d stopped paying attention months ago. 

He wasn’t on a first-name basis with the kid, or at least, he didn’t know the kid’s name. The kid definitely knew his— the hero of two wars, who turned against the gods, the one who went from most praised to most feared among demigods in a matter of days. Everyone knew him. 

But he was tired of the bullshit the gods kept pulling. If teaching them that they need to care about their kids more than just claiming them and giving them a cabin at Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter meant that Percy would be seen as a traitor for as long as he was remembered, so be it.

Tears streamed down the new hero’s cheeks. They had collapsed, were forcing themselves to sit upward, all because the weights placed on their shoulders had left them with no sleep for who knows how long. This kid was in no shape to fight. They shouldn’t have to fight. They were a kid. They deserved to go to school, and laugh about the newest Tumblr jokes, and go to movies with their friends, and enjoy vacations with their family. All the things that, because of the fucking gods, Percy had never really gotten. 

Percy capped Riptide with a sigh, walking down from the makeshift throne where he’d been sitting when the hero walked into the room over to the exhausted child.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he said. “You’re doing beautifully and I’m so proud of you. But that’s enough now. It was cruel of them to make you fight me— you could never have won. It’s not your fault.”

His voice was calm, a mask to hide the anger he felt. When everything started, he knew there’d be a new prophecy, and a new prophecy child, shoved in to fight the gods’ battles. 

“What’s your name, hero?” Percy asked, trying his best to relax the kid. He was never the best at that, with his mind racing a million miles an hour at all times. Even slowing his voice down was difficult. 

“...I’m Georgina. Georgie.”

He knew that name. Apollo had met her when she was seven. Why had she left the Waystation? From Apollo’s recap, it seemed that Emmie and Jo never would’ve let her. 

Yet undoubtedly, here she was, fifteen years old, the same large stature and wavy brown hair, same flushed face with freckles along her nose as Apollo had described. 

“And you probably know who I am. Everyone does, some way or another.”

“You’re Perseus. Son of Poseidon.”

“Percy. No one calls me Perseus unless they’re about to kill me.”

Georgie gave a small chuckle, kind of obviously an anxious laugh. 

“I was, but. You know. Can’t kill from the ground.” She paused. “And my sword’s over there.”

It had skidded across the ground when she had fallen, near the door. 

The door. Right. 

Percy sighed, picking up the hero, who gave a small surprised gasp. He carried her over to the throne, setting her down and pulling the blanket that was hanging over the back of it down. 

“Here,” he said, laying it over Georgie. “Get some rest. I’ll handle everything else.”

She passed out almost immediately, poor kid. Percy fished his pen from his pocket, uncapping Riptide once again. 

He opened the door, met by an army, like he suspected he would be. 

He dropped Riptide, holding his hands up. 

“I need to speak to Zeus.”

Names had power. He’d been taught that since day one. So he wasn’t surprised when thunder rumbled from above, and a lightning bolt struck in the front of the opposing forces. He did wish the scream from one of the members, as they stepped back with burn scars over the left side of their body, never came. 

But, undoubtedly, there was Zeus. His hair was loose, hanging down to his shoulders, and his fancy outfit suggested he’d been talking to that fashionable friend of Annabeth’s cousin. 

“I can end this,” Percy said, “one way or the other.”

“You don’t scare me, Perseus,” Zeus said, holding his lightning bolts higher. “I am still King of the Gods.”

Percy scoffed. “What kind of title is that. Are you proud to be king of the gods? When most of the gods care about themselves and no one else?” He gestured back towards the building behind him, where Georgie was asleep on the chair. “When you send children to fight your battles? You’d think that the almighty gods wouldn’t need kids to fight for them. But here we are.”

Zeus scowled. “We—”

“Don’t start. You seem defensive. You know I’m right. And as for plans to kill me, which I’m sure you have…”

He glanced beside him, to one of the two guards that had been stationed at his door. He whispered a quiet apology, as he sensed the blood left inside the corpse, and willed it out of the body, in a manner… you know what, that’s better not described. 

“I wonder how many times I could do that with a god’s ichor.” A dark grin covered Percy’s face. Fear and disgust both flashed across Zeus’s face for a few seconds, long enough to satisfy Percy. 

“I will end it peacefully, given a promise. No more kids fighting your battles. Preferably, don’t push your kids to start battles either. Whine about how we always find things to complain about all you want— you’re the reason so many things to complain about exist. Take a few minutes to realize that.”

Silence fell between the two, and even the army stayed silent. 

“And do you expect me to let you go free, risking another war?”

“I don’t know.” That part was honest. Percy didn’t know what he wanted to happen beyond what he had already said. 

And that was that. Zeus made a promise, hopefully one he’d keep. 

And Percy was gone. He knew that no matter what anyone would say, he would never be the hero of that war. And he didn’t deserve Elysium, thanks to those battles. 

That was it. That was the war. Everyone got to go back to their lives, and more normal ones. 

And the list of the fallen was compiled for the funerals. Only a few pages, not as bad as the other wars. 

The final fallen was Perseus Jackson, who’d lived too long to stay a hero.

**Author's Note:**

> (1142 words. 6210 characters. 3 hours to write, if not less.)  
> originally posted on tumblr. prompt from the-modern-typewriter.  
> feel free to write/draw shit for this if you really want just credit me


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